


In Your Heart Shall Burn An Unquenchable Flame

by GothicPrincessWitch



Series: The Templar!Fenris AU [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canonical Character Death, Dragon Age Quest: Alone, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Recovery, Referenced past slavery, Sexual Content, Templar AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15307125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicPrincessWitch/pseuds/GothicPrincessWitch
Summary: Three years ago, after ending things with Hawke, Fenris joined the Templar Order and has worked hard to build a new life for himself, but he still doesn't feel complete. He yearns for Hawke and for the memories he gained and immediately lost that one passionate night with Hawke. The only way he can gain a sense of who he used to be, the only way to unlock that past, the only way for him to feel whole again, is through his sister Varania. But when Varania arrives in Kirkwall, something about it doesn't feel right. Fenris must decide if he's willing to risk everything for this chance with his sister.





	In Your Heart Shall Burn An Unquenchable Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to scatteringmyashes for reigniting my inspiration for this fic and for giving me so much encouragement! Also huge thank yous to The-Tevinter-Biscuit and theoxfordcommando for their beta-ing help with the beginning and support! All my love!
> 
> Not every tag applies to this chapter, but I wanted to make sure everyone is warned in advance for what's to come just to be safe. There is, however, minor sexual content at the beginning of this chapter and references to Fenris's past throughout. This is an AU, which means things with the Alone quest and its aftermath are going to go down very differently from in canon. I hope you enjoy!

_"O Maker, hear my cry:_  
_Guide me through the blackest nights._  
_Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked._  
_Make me to rest in the warmest places...._

_My Maker, know my heart:_  
_Take from me a life of sorrow._  
_Lift me from a world of pain._  
_Judge me worthy of Your endless pride."_  
\-- Canticle of Transfigurations 12:1,3

=====

Hawke’s hands are rough from hard living, including the farm work from back in Lothering. There are calluses worn into his hands from years with his bow and daggers, as well as a smattering of tiny burns on his fingertips from mishaps with smoke grenades and poisons. These hands are big, fitting perfectly around Fenris’s slender hands or wrapping around Fenris’s lyrium-marked cock.

But his hands don’t feel rough on Fenris. They are not grasping, seizing, pinning, or taking. Instead Hawke’s touch is tender, supportive, even worshipful, and Fenris melts into him with every stroke, every thrust.

Fenris has never felt safer nor more pleasured than here in Hawke’s loving hands, with his legs splayed beneath Hawke and Hawke inside him. He needs Hawke. He loves Hawke. He’s never wanted anything or anyone the way he wants Hawke. He’s never been loved the way Hawke loves him.

Hawke’s black beard is rough against Fenris’s skin, but his lips are soft, oh so soft, as Hawke presses kiss after kiss onto Fenris’s jawline and the nape of his neck. Fenris moans softly. Hawke’s lips are also burning, setting Fenris’s skin and soul alight, on fire with love and desire for Hawke. Fierce, bold, magnificent Hawke, who wants nothing more than Fenris’s happiness.

Waves of pleasure crest between them, and Fenris cannot tell where Hawke ends and he begins. Everything about this moment is bliss, everything encompassed by Hawke’s endless love for him. It’s perfect. This, this connection, this intimacy, this shared piece of utter affection is all he needs and all he never knew he wanted.

Fenris had never thought it could feel like this. He never thought **_he_** could feel like this, whole and complete for once in his life and so very loved.

He feels boneless, basking in the afterglow, as he collapses into Hawke’s arms, and his eyes slip shut as Hawke’s lips meet his for a slow, almost lazy kiss. Fenris buries his face into Hawke’s sweat-soaked skin and drinks in every second he can of this pure bliss, wanting this to last forever.

But then, as suddenly as a candle being snuffed out, come the memories, rushing through him, shattering him and hollowing him out, reminding him with knife-like sharpness that he was never meant for something like this.

All the fire, all the warmth has vanished, leaving him empty and raw as he desperately tries to hold onto something, anything, any part of this.

But all the memories and broken pieces of himself slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

What little shards and fragments of Fenris remain feel cold and alone and on the verge of despair.

=====

It's been three years since that night with Hawke, since both of their hearts were broken. Much has changed in the meantime: Fenris becoming a Knight-Templar and Hawke becoming the Champion of Kirkwall.

Some things, however, haven't changed at all. The way Fenris's heart beats fast whenever Hawke smiles at him. The way neither of their affections have wavered even for a moment, despite everything, even after all this time (and Fenris is not foolish enough to believe that Hawke is going to stop loving him. Or stop waiting for him.). Nor has anything changed about the way Fenris still feels too broken inside to be able to be with Hawke. That night had been a stolen glimpse of a life not meant for him.

But perhaps it could be.

Perhaps he could someday have that after all.

When Fenris had had those memories in his grasp for that all too brief moment, he'd been something -- **_someone_** \-- more than just a runaway slave still bearing all the scars and pain of that past. He'd been someone more once, long ago, before the lyrium ritual, before Danarius cut into him and carved and molded him into a weapon, trophy, and pet. Whatever identity that had been was taken from him.

Within the Templar Order, Fenris has built a new life for himself, along with a sense of peace and a sense of purpose, dedicating himself to a higher cause, but he's not yet fully complete. He's not back to being unbroken. However, if he could regain those memories of who he was ** _before_** and retain them without their being painfully yanked away from him again, if he could become the person he was before Danarius's violations, then Fenris could fill in the missing pieces of himself and be whole once more.

Then, perhaps, Fenris could be someone ready and worthy of being with Garrett Hawke.

Fenris is not willing to risk the inevitable pain of attempting to recover his memories through the, ah, previous method of unintentionally doing so. (Not to mention everything else involved in that.) Fortunately, it's possible that there is another link to the past.

His sister, Varania.

He's wondered about her since Hadriana revealed her existence to him.

No, that isn't true. He's wondered about his family for a very long time. Although Danarius kept him isolated from the other slaves of the household, Fenris observed them enough to see the familial and fraternal bonds between many of them. Fenris was envious of that closeness, that kind of connection. He had his master; he was favored by his master; but that wasn't the same kind of relationship.

Fenris asked Danarius once, on an evening when the magister was in a pleasant and indulgent mood. He'd treated Fenris to several sips from his own bejeweled wine goblet and hummed as he ran his fingers through Fenris's silver hair, petting him fondly; and Fenris felt emboldened enough to inquire if he had a family of his own.

Danarius had him punished for such impudence.

Somehow Hadriana had never forgotten this incident. How long did she know about his sister? How long was she waiting to hold that information over his head? There were, of course, infrequent occasions when Hadriana lied to Fenris if it served to humiliate him, but this, this he was inclined to believe. A lie would have been more elaborate.

And if Hadriana were indeed telling the truth as he suspects, then that means this mysterious sister really isn't a slave. Otherwise Hadriana would have jumped at the chance to torment him with the knowledge that that Fenris abandoned his poor little slave sister to a life of suffering.

It was half a year after he joined the Order that Fenris decided to search for his sister. Becoming a Templar had the added advantage of a stable income, coin he could use to hire people to locate Varania. It wasn't easy, but eventually he found her.

It took several letters to convince her of his identity and sincerity. Fortunately, he had his closest friend, Sebastian Vael, to assist him with writing the letters. Sebastian, who would give anything to have his own family back, was eager to help and offered Fenris endless support and encouragement.

The only reservation Sebastian voiced was to inquire, "Are you going to tell Hawke?"

At the time Fenris shook his head. "I can't," he said.

Sebastian gave him a kind, understanding smile in response.

But now, now that Fenris has sent Varania more than enough gold for her to travel to Kirkwall, now that there's a real chance he can regain his past and become whole again... Now he wonders if perhaps he should tell Hawke after all.

Then again, he doesn't want to get Hawke's hopes up -- or his own. The last time he hoped for something with all his heart and was lucky enough to receive it, it was ripped from his grasp immediately.

Fenris is a fool, though, for he keeps hoping nonetheless.

His sister... What is she like? He can't help but wonder. Does she look like him -- or rather, does she look like how he used to before Danarius scarred and branded him with lyrium? How did she manage to remain free when he was made a slave? Did she ever try to find him? Does she miss him? What will she say to him?

Fenris tries to imagine her -- or at least to imagine his ideal version of a sister -- but all he can picture is Bethany Hawke. Sweet, loving Bethany Hawke, who doted on her brother and trusted him above all else, who was always kind to Fenris even when he was wary of her in the beginning, who was the only person besides himself who got to see the hidden gentle, softer side of Garrett Hawke. Fenris mourned her tragic death in the Deep Roads, but he's never forgotten her. He would have been fortunate to have her as a sister.

If Bethany had survived, would she perhaps have thought of Fenris as her brother when he and Garrett were together?

_No, don't dwell on that thought._

Bethany is gone. Varania, however, is still out there, and she holds the key to Fenris's past and his future.

So despite himself, he continues to hope each day, as he goes about his duties as a Templar, as he prays in the Chantry, as he lies in his bunk at night and curls his red silk-wrapped wrist against his heart.

He hopes for everything.

=====

When the messenger arrives at the Gallows with Varania's letter, Fenris can scarcely believe it. She's come to Kirkwall. She's actually here!

His sister, his family, the person he's supposed to belong with...

It seems too good to be true.

...Because it has to be too good to be true. A sense of dread washes over Fenris, and his hands become cold and numb within his Templar-issue gauntlets.

When have things ever worked out so well for Fenris? Every good thing in his life he's had to struggle and fight for: his freedom, his independence, his life in Kirkwall, his friendships, his... what he has with Hawke. Finding Varania took time and coin, but for it to end up so simple as this...

Something doesn't feel right, and it leaves a bitter, disappointed taste in his mouth for having allowed himself to hope so much.

Fenris might well be paranoid, but he's had to be for his own self-preservation. He's endured nearly a decade of bounty hunters pursuing him. The past three years, Fenris has been safe from slavers by living in the Gallows, the heart of Templar power in the Free Marches, but...

But Varania insists upon meeting him outside the Gallows.

Every instinct is screaming at him that this is a trap, to lure him away from the one place Danarius's agents cannot reach him. He should throw away the letter and give this up as a lost cause. He should stay within the Gallows instead of putting himself at risk.

But then Varania would be lost to him forever, and he'll never know his family or his past. All his hopes for the future will be lost. Having a family, people who love him and take care of him -- that's what Fenris has for years wanted more than anything else in the world. _(Except that is, for Hawke, but that is different.)_ Having that family, that connection, is what freedom truly means to him.

He wants this so badly. He must decide very soon if it's worth the risk, or this door will be shut to him forever.

After everything these past years, after all he's done to stop running and build a new life for himself in which he's not dependent upon Hawke, after all he's done to try to regain the sense of personhood Danarius stripped from him... Can he truly bear to lose this chance?

=====

That evening, Fenris has dinner with Cullen in the Knight-Captain's private quarters.

Fenris values his camaraderie with Cullen greatly. When he first approached Cullen about joining the Order, he'd never expected to gain such a friend. But the two have a deep understanding, and Fenris is grateful to have a close relationship with another Templar. It's good for him to have a friend independent of everything with Hawke.

Truth be told, Fenris believes Cullen has been in great need of a friend as well, and Fenris is the one Templar in Kirkwall who can relate to the trauma and suffering Cullen endured at the hands of blood mages and their demons. Except, perhaps, that is, Knight-Commander Meredith, although she treats Cullen as her subordinate and colleague rather than a friend.

Their dinners are relaxed, informal affairs, both of them comfortable out of armor and dressed in casual clothing. Tonight Fenris is clad in a loose, long-sleeved, black tunic over his leggings, his only adornments the red silk favor tied about his right wrist and a silver amulet engraved with the holy symbol of Andraste, gifted to him by Sebastian.

Cullen likes to sometimes insist upon cooking, which is very kind of him, except that he's a Fereldan, like Hawke, and, also like Hawke, he has rather poor taste in food and wine. Fereldan fare is very hearty and heavy and woefully underseasoned, in Fenris's opinion. Tonight Cullen has prepared mutton stew oozing with thick gravy and greyed peas over blandly boiled potatoes, and Fenris cannot imagine what flavors are meant to complement the paired sweet white wine.

Despite the disgrace to Fenris's far more refined palate, Fenris never complains more than a few teasing, snarky words here and there on occasion. He appreciates the efforts Cullen is making, and frankly he owes Cullen a great deal -- both for allowing him into the Templar Order in the first place and for allowing Fenris to rearrange his schedule as needed in order to accomodate his accompanying Hawke's adventures. The most recent of these escapades a few weeks prior was an investigation of yet another disaster at the Bone Pit, which resulted in having to fight and slay a high dragon.

"I suppose your returning injured can be justified in that you were trying to protect Kirkwall from a dragon," Cullen had dryly commented about the incident.

"Saving Hawke's ass is my primary method of protecting this city," was Fenris's deadpan response.

On this particular evening, however, their light-hearted banter is absent. Fenris has too much on his mind with all his warring hopes and fears about Varania. And also Hawke. Each bite of the Fereldan-style meal before him makes him think of Hawke. And how he still hasn't told Hawke about Varania. And how Hawke might believe that Fenris doesn't trust him because of not telling him about Varania. And how Fenris could not bear for Hawke to think less of him.

"Is something wrong, Fenris?"

Cullen's voice startles Fenris out of his ruminations.

"I apologize. I did not intend to ignore you," says Fenris, his face reddening slightly. He takes a sip of white wine and frowns at the taste.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" asks Cullen. His tone is self-conscious, but concern gleams in his amber eyes.

Fenris hesitates. With his fork, he slides a few discolored peas across his plate, while he debates answering. In the six years since he's come to Kirkwall, Fenris has gotten better at being able to open up to those he considers friends and has become better at trusting them, but that doesn't make it easy.

And it feels almost as through, if he gives voice to his fears about Danarius's hunters being involved in this, then that will ensure these fears are real, inevitably summoning the slave hunters to Kirkwall.

What a foolish notion.

"I received a letter, from my sister," Fenris reluctantly confesses at last. He keeps his eyes lowered to his plate, not wanting to reveal how anxious he is about this. "I have no memory of her, but she's come to Kirkwall for the week."

Cullen also looks away, fingers twitching uncomfortably. "Do you need time off to be with her?"

"Perhaps, but..." Fenris selects his words carefully. "It may be unsafe."

There's a pause, both of them returning to awkward silence, before Cullen says, "You know, Fenris, I have two sisters myself. They're in Ferelden. Rosalie never writes, but Mia, she writes to me often. I rarely respond because I don't really know what to say. The brother she remembers, that man doesn't exist anymore. I, I changed at the tower." Cullen's breath hitches at the mention of Kinloch Hold, and his hands clench into fists.

"I changed," Cullen repeats. "I'm not the man I was, and it makes me wonder sometimes if that means if they're really not _my_ sisters, but the sisters of someone who's dead and gone. And I..." He quickly takes a gulp of wine and a deep breath to steady himself. "I don't blame you if you don't want to risk potential pain from meeting someone you don't remember. You don't need to put yourself through that, Fenris. Not if you don't want to."

Fenris mulls over his friend's words, over how much Cullen has lost, how much he himself has lost. Then he looks up at Cullen, gives him a weak half-smile, and says, "I shall consider it. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Cullen mumbles.

=====

Later that night, as Fenris lies awake in his bunk, he pores over everything.

There's so much he has to gain: a greater sense of freedom, a greater sense of who he is, the family Danarius took from him, everything he lost that night with Hawke, a sister.

There's so much he has to lose: his freedom, the sense of safety and security he's fought hard for, any chance of knowing who he is, any chance of knowing who he was, any chance of becoming something more than a broken runaway slave lying to himself about having a normal life, any chance of being with Hawke, his sister.

Fenris can't sleep. Each time he closes his eyes, all he can picture are the slave hunters who tracked him down every step of the his life on the run, and all he can feel is the lash of the whip against his back when Danarius punished him for daring to ask questions about his family.

Heart pounding within his chest, Fenris climbs out of bed and, as quietly as he can so as not to disturb the other sleeping Templars in the barracks, exits the room. Breaking the rules, breaking curfew, he makes his way through the halls, out through the courtyard, and down to the pier.

There he stands, silver hair falling into his face from the night breeze, and he looks out over the darkened water to the City of Chains, wherein lies all hope for his future.

Moonlight glimmers against the ancient Tevinter statues of chained slaves, a sharp reminder of his past -- the very past he may be forcibly returned to if this is indeed a trap, if the hunters capture him and take him back to the Imperium, to Danarius.

But moonlight is also reflected by the silver Andrastrian amulet around his neck, the Chantry sunburst a shining mirror of the moon.

Fenris has lost so very, very much. He doesn't want to lose this too.

Before the morning has fully dawned, Fenris dispatches a messenger to Hightown.

=====

Hawke answers his summons very promptly, hastening to the Gallows just after sunrise with his red leather armor barely buckled, his kaddis warpaint askew, and the side of his black hair still ruffled bedhead. Fenris cannot help the fluttering within his chest at how readily Hawke is at his attentions. Nor can he help but feel an urger to reach up and smooth down Hawke's hair, but he quickly quashes that impulse.

"Hello, Fenris," says Garrett Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall and the one to whom Fenris's heart still belongs. "Your message said you needed me?"

I'll always need you, thinks Fenris, but he doesn't say that aloud. Instead he clears his throat and tells Hawke about Varania, about his search for her and her letter stating that she'll be waiting for him at the Hanged Man for the duration of the week. He cannot help the sprig of guilt unfurling within him for having hid all this from Hawke.

When Fenris finishes reading Varania's letter out loud, he looks up at Hawke only to discover that Hawke's expression has changed to his fake smile, the mask Hawke wears to hide his feelings. But Fenris knows Hawke too well and sees right through the facade.

"You think it's suspicious," states Fenris dryly. Somehow it's a little better that Hawke agrees with him on this. It's a kind of reassurance that he's not overthinking this or too paranoid.

"I didn't say that," replies Hawke in measured words.

"But you think it is," says Fenris.

Hawke sighs, dropping his feigned smile and letting his wariness show. More bluntly he says, "I think the only trap more obvious would be a sign in front of a bandits' cave that reads, _'Free money and mabari puppies this way.'_ I don't like the sound of this at all, Fenris."

"Neither do I," Fenris agrees, "but I can't leave it like this. I have to know her. She's my sister. This is too important to me."

Hawke's golden-brown eyes soften like warm honey, and his voice is equally warm as he says, "I understand. I'd risk a great deal for a chance to see Bethany or Carver again, even for but a moment."

Fenris lays his hand in Hawke's, squeezing their hands together as best he can through layers of steel and leather gauntlets.

"But I still don't like the thought of you in danger," Hawke continues, his gaze intensely locked onto Fenris's.

For a moment, Fenris almost believes that Hawke is about to reach out and caress Fenris's face with his free hand.

For another moment, he's disappointed that Hawke doesn't.

"Then come with me to meet her," says Fenris. It's not a demand, but not really a plea either. "It would mean a lot to me to have you there."

Hawke's face has the most smitten expression on it as he responds, "Of course I'll come, Fenris. Anything for you, love." But then his manner turns back to grave. "However, I don't want us to walk into an ambush unprepared. I'm meeting Varric and Bela at the Hanged Man tonight, so why don't I stealthily take a look around? Check for signs of a trap; see if any Tevinter mercenaries have followed your sister, that sort of thing. Then we can go meet her together tomorrow. What do you think?"

Fenris nods. "Very well," he says, "provided you promise me not to place yourself in any unnecessary danger."

Hawke flashes him a shit-eating grin. "I never do anything like that!"

Fenris scoffs, a huff of laughter escaping him despite himself. He looks down at their entwined hands, only just remembering that they haven't yet let go of each other, and his cheeks grow warm.

"Thank you, Garrett," he murmurs.

"What are friends for?" responds Hawke, but Fenris knows what he really means when he says _friends._

=====

The Hanged Man's common room is full of thugs, cutthroats, smugglers, mercenaries, and criminals -- the scum of Kirkwall. For one thing, all of those terms apply to Hawke, despite his shiny wealth, noble status, and political power.

But in spite of his shadowy subterfuge and cunning reconnaissance, Hawke has not caught sight of any known slavers nor any thugs wearing Tevinter-make armor nor any Tevinter elves who look related to Fenris. This, however, does not put his mind at ease. If anything, he's only more on guard, and he's willing to spend all night at the Hanged Man in order to be thorough.

Fortunately he has his friends with him: more eyes to cover the room and the stairs and the doors. Aveline, unfortunately, believes his efforts are unwarranted, explaining that her guards had already checked the ship carrying Varania upon her arrival and found nothing suspicious.

Although he pretends otherwise, it stings to learn that Aveline, Sebastian, and Isabela all knew about Fenris's search for Varania before Hawke.

"He didn't tell me anything," Merrill reassures him.

"Thanks, Merrill," Hawke says as he watches a red-haired elf in a thick cloak come down the stairs and head toward a small, empty table along the far wall.

"Don't be angry with Fenris," Sebastian tells him. "This has been a very difficult ordeal for him. You know perfectly well that he holds your opinion in very high regard, but don't pretend that every bit of his life revolves around you."

"I'm not!" protests Hawke, turning his attention to Sebastian. "I'm not angry, and I'm not pretending that, what you said, either. I want him to have every possible happiness even if..." He trails off, finishing silently as he downs his drink: _even if he doesn't need me anymore for his happiness._

Sebastian sighs wearily and shakes his head. "And that is why he didn't tell you right away."

"Don't be silly, Hawke," says Merrill. "Fenris is happiest when he's with you."

=====

Hawke's evening at the Hanged Man is cut disappointingly short when a runner arrives from Hightown with a message from Bodahn, who urgently needs Hawke to return to the estate. Varric, Isabela, Merrill, and Sebastian all assure Hawke that they'll continue to keep an eye on the comings and goings of the Hanged Man's patrons, which gives Hawke some peace of mind. After all, every one of them wants to protect Fenris and look out for him as best they can.

Sebastian is mostly concerned that he hasn't spotted anyone who looks similar enough to Fenris to be his sibling, until he spots a cloaked elf distastefully picking at the Hanged Man's "special" stew. He'd overlooked her at first, thinking her skin too pale and her hair too bright a red to resemble Fenris.

But then he catches a glimpse of her eyes: large and green and filled with so much bitterness. It's been a long time since Sebastian has seen that kind of bitterness in Fenris's eyes, but he hasn't forgotten it.

Before he's even realized it, Sebastian is out of his seat and making his way over to the elf.

"May I join you?" he asks politely.

"No," she says coldly, looking at him with as much disgust as she has toward Corff's mystery stew.

Sebastian knows he shouldn't persist in bothering a woman who's turned him away, but against his better judgement he says, "May I ask if you are here to meet your brother?"

She gives him a sharp look, with her dark red-painted lips pursed. Thunderclouds are brewing in those familiarly green eyes.

"I ask because if you are here for whom I believe you are, he is someone I love very much, and I want what's best for him," Sebastian continues. There's a sinking feeling in his stomach as the elven woman appears to become only more disgusted.

She stands up so fast that her chair falls over. "I don't have a brother," she hisses before going back upstairs.

Merrill comes over to Sebastian, who watches the elf he thinks is Varania storm away. "I don't think that was a very good idea, Sebastian."

"I'm afraid you're right, Merrill," he agrees worriedly.

=====

Hawke thinks about Fenris the entire walk back to Hightown. He wants Fenris to be happy, more than anything else in the world, even if it isn't with Hawke. He really, truly wants that.

But he also desperately wishes that Fenris could be happy with him.

There are a handful of armed guards loitering on the steps leading up to the Viscount's Keep. Hawke squints and can catch the glint of torchlight against their armor. They look like a noble's bodyguards, but they don't so much as glance at Hawke as he heads toward his estate.

Bodahn is waiting for him in the foyer and begins babbling at him immediately.

"Ah, Master Hawke! Thank you for coming so quickly. There's a gentleman waiting for you in your study. He said it was an urgent and delicate matter to discuss with you right away," Bodahn tells him.

Hawke raises an eyebrow at that. "You let him ino my house when I wasn't home?"

"My apologies, messere, but this is a man who looks like he doesn't take no for an answer, and he really quite insisted. Very powerful and important looking man, that. He agreed to leave his retainers outside, though," Bodahn continues. "Ah, on another note, messere, I'm afraid poor little Orana has taken ill. She turned white and shaking, so I sent her to bed and told her to rest through tomorrow, so you're aware."

Hawke thanks Bodahn for keeping him updated and heads to his study. Bodahn's description of this visitor as _"powerful and important looking"_ is quite apt. The gentleman is older, grey hair pulled into a short ponytail, but he has a very commanding, imperious presence, as well as incredibly expensive looking clothes.

Currently the man is inspecting the label of the expensive wine bottle atop Hawke's desk. It had been a present from Fenris, who'd given it to Hawke with a smirk and a deadpan, _"Tevinter wine is made from the blood and tears of slaves, but this one is rather good."_ Hawke can barely tell the difference between red wine and white wine, but he's treasured this particular bottle because it came from Fenris.

"You have excellent taste in wine, Lord Hawke," the man says.

"I have excellent taste in everything," Hawke replies smoothly, slipping into the charming persona he uses to deal with Kirkwall's nobles.

"Hmm." The man turns to face Hawke, and his grey eyes are cold and steely and piercing. "Is that why you've taken my property?"


End file.
